


The Last Line of Hope

by autopilots77



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Abuse, Deaf Character, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-09 02:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11094849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autopilots77/pseuds/autopilots77
Summary: Jason's murderer has been found, but now a gang war brews in Riverdale. Jughead Jones is missing and Archie is a mess. Features Archie & Jughead friendship and deaf!Jughead.





	1. Chapter 1

They search for four days straight before they find him.

In the end, it’s his ridiculous crown beanie that saves him. Archie doesn’t know if the Serpents hadn’t noticed it slipping off his head in the woods or if Jughead had intentionally dropped it to leave a clue, but he swears that stumbling upon that goddamn hat half-buried in the melting snow was one of the greatest moments of his life, right behind actually finding Jughead. Betty really finds him, of course. There’s no one in Riverdale with as much perseverance and determination as Betty Cooper when someone she loves is in trouble, and Archie is well aware that it would have taken him twice as long to track down Jughead without her. She was the one who figured it all out – that the Snakes and Scorpions were locked in a furious and violent gang war, that a couple of Snakes had just viciously attacked a few Scorpions on their home turf, and what better way to retaliate than to kidnap and torture their leader’s very own son?

~~~

In the beginning, things feel hopeless. Jughead hasn’t shown up to school or responded to messages for two days, and Archie last saw him in his usual booth at Pop’s, cup of black coffee by his side, nose hidden in a beaten paperback. He never came home that night. Sheriff Keller is convinced that Jughead skipped town (Archie nearly punches him when Keller suggests this, because Jughead had left his laptop behind – not to mention all of his belongings - and no way would Riverdale’s resident author dare to abandon his precious novel). FP is a dead end, too deep into a drunken bender triggered by his missing son to be able to offer any help. Even Archie’s own father is skeptical; after all, Jughead did have a reputation for disappearing for days at a time, but never without at least a text or a call to Archie or Betty letting them know he was safe. Eventually, Fred agrees to help them search, and he, Archie, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin begin scouring every inch of Riverdale for their missing friend.

~~~

On the first day, Archie refuses to entertain any thought besides that of finding Jughead. He goes over hopeful scenarios of their reunion in his mind as he carefully searches the streets, checking up on all of Jughead’s old haunts. They would find Jughead, they would reunite, he would forgo the “bro moments” and instead hold tightly onto his best friend and never let him go. He would make sure Jughead knew how much he meant to all of them, that his disappearance had thrown them into a frenzy of confusion and worry, that somewhere on the other side of Jason’s death and the discovery that Jughead was living at the fucking school they had made that unspoken step from friends to family.

On the second day, the guilt eats Archie alive. Jughead’s face floats in front of him as his feet carry him once again through the snow-covered town, that mischievous expression and devil-may-care attitude ever present even in his imaginations of his best friend. He should have taken better care of Jughead, he should have been a better friend, should have noticed that FP had fallen off the rails again and that Jughead was carrying his whole life on his back and doing it all alone. He should have noticed that the increasing darkness of the bags under his eyes and the haggard expression weren’t normal, even for the chronically tired Jughead. At the end of another unsuccessful day, Archie can’t bring himself to look at Betty and see her crestfallen expression, and his dad’s supporting hand on his shoulder burns him with shame.

On the third day, Archie begins losing hope. No one has seen or heard from Jughead in five days, and Archie is painfully aware that the likelihood of finding a missing person decreases to almost zero after two days. This fact twists itself tightly around Archie’s neck and suffocates him, suffocates him, suffocates him until the shrill ringing of his phone pulls him back to the snow-covered street he’s stopped on, breathing heavily. It’s Betty, breathless and speaking quickly, telling him she went to see FP again, learned about the gang war, and thinks she knows what happened to Jughead.

On the fourth day, they begin searching Scorpions’ territory, the woods on the other side of Sweetwater River. It’s dangerous, too dangerous to search alone, so they split off in pairs: Betty and Archie, Veronica and Kevin, and Fred and a newly sober FP. Betty and Archie are silent and serious as they scour the woods for any sign of Jughead, relieved that they are close to the end of this horror, but equally terrified for what could be waiting for them there. They search for hours, picking their way carefully through fallen tree branches and steadfastly ignoring the cold that seeps through their winter coats. Archie tries hard not to think about the fact that Jughead doesn’t own a winter coat. The sky darkens quickly, and Archie is about to call out to Betty to suggest they begin heading out of the woods when something catches his eye and stops him. There, not three feet in front of him, is Jughead’s beanie.

~~~

It doesn’t take the two of them long to piece together what most likely happened to Jughead while they wait for the others to meet them. His beanie wasn’t lying too far from the road, meaning the Scorpions nabbed him while he was walking home from Pop’s, threw him in a car, and drove him out here, probably to drag him to a hideout deeper in the woods.

“Oh God,” Veronica gasps, as she and Kevin emerge from the woods. Veronica pales at the sight of Jughead’s signature accessory, clutched tightly in Archie’s fingers.

“The Scorpions really did take him.” Kevin says, eyes downcast. “We need to call my dad and get backup out here.”

“No.” Archie says harshly. “No offense, Kevin, but your dad hasn’t exactly been helpful in this entire situation. He’ll probably just think Jughead dropped his hat while he was running away. We’re better off just solving this problem on our own. Again.”

“Archie, Kevin has a point.” Betty says softly. “We have no idea what we’re going up against, and Jughead might be…” she struggles for words, “…hurt. It’s better to be safe, especially given who we’re dealing with. I mean, we’re literally in the middle of a gang war!”

“I’m with Betty.” Veronica states. “We can’t take any risks. Jughead’s safety is the top priority.”

Archie opens his mouth to argue but is interrupted by Fred and FP, who had been further into the woods than the others, bursting from a dense cluster of trees.

“We may have found something,” Fred says, breathless from the trek in the rapidly darkening woods. “Looks like some type of hideout. It’s just an old abandoned building, but there are signs that people have been around. Looks like someone’s been using it recently.”

“That’s it!” Archie exclaimed. “That has to be where they’re keeping Jughead! What are we waiting for?”

“Hold on, hold on.” Fred says, raising a finger to his son. “We need to call Sheriff Keller. We can’t just go storming the castle like this, we’re only five people and we have no idea what could be waiting for us in there. And we’re losing daylight. We have to wait and meet up with the police, they’ll be better equipped to deal with this.”

“You don’t understand!” Archie yells. “We’re wasting time! Time that Jughead might not have!”

“We’re wasting time just arguing about it!” Veronica counters, turning away and pulling out her phone to call Sheriff Keller.

Archie turns to FP. “FP, you can’t be okay with just waiting around. Veronica’s calling, but we don’t have time to wait for them! We have to move now!”

FP looks conflicted as he avoids Archie’s gaze. It is deathly silent, except for the quiet murmurings of Veronica informing Sheriff Keller that there is an emergency involving the disappearance of Jughead Jones and that he’d better get out to the woods across Sweetwater River.

“Look, I wanna go running in there just as much as you do. Fred practically had to hold me back once we found that damn building.” FP sighs. “But I’m afraid your father is right on this one. The fact is we don’t know what we’re dealing with, or what’ll happen to Jughead if we just barge in there, especially since I’m a Serpent. We have to wait for the cops.”

Archie’s grip on Jughead’s beanie tightens. He looks to Betty and Kevin for backup, but their eyes are downcast, expressions sympathetic but unwilling, and he realizes he is outvoted.

“Fine.” He spits, gritting his teeth and beginning to pace restlessly.

~~~

Sheriff Keller arrives within ten minutes, but to Archie it feels like a lifetime. He spends that tiny lifetime sitting on an old, gnarled tree trunk, twisting Jughead’s beanie in his fingers, staring at the faded gray yarn as if his best friend would suddenly emerge, safe and sound, from the knits and purls, until he hears Sheriff Keller’s cruiser pull up on the nearby road, directed by FP and Fred.

“Finally,” Betty mutters, rising to her feet, eyes concerned. “It’s really getting dark now.”

She’s right, Archie notices. He hadn’t given much thought to the fact that they were losing daylight, but the sun is rapidly sinking below the horizon, and within a half an hour the sky will be pitch black. They had to move.

“Alright kids,” Sheriff Keller says, marching up to the four of them with Fred and FP. “I know it’ll do me no good to try and make you stay behind, so just let us go first and do not do anything stupid. The Scorpions are not to be messed with.”

Archie rises to his feet, stuffing Jughead’s beanie into his coat pocket, and they set off, FP and Fred leading Sheriff Keller deeper into the woods to the abandoned building, with Archie and the others close on his heels. Archie’s mounting anxiety occupies his mind as he trails behind Betty, her ponytail bobbing as she clambers over rocks and branches. What condition would they find Jughead in, if they even found him at all? What if this whole thing was a dead end, and the Scorpions and Jughead weren’t at the building at all? Questions race through his mind the entire journey, and he is so preoccupied with his thoughts that he runs straight into Betty when she abruptly halts in front of him.

“We’re here,” she whispers, gripping his arm tightly to prevent his fall.

Archie finally gets a good look at the place Jughead has most likely been kept in for the past six days. He’s surprised to find he’s staring at a decrepit house, and not the gray, prison-like building he’s been imagining. It’s small, unassuming, and probably only has a few rooms at most. The outside is in horrible shape, siding peeling off the walls and wood rotting from disuse and weather damage. At one point, it may have made a small, quaint home, but its glory days are long gone, now simply another piece of property for gangs like the Scorpions to conduct their illegal business.

Sheriff Keller draws his weapon and begins his approach. Archie moves to follow, but his father’s arm across his chest prevents him from continuing.

“Just be patient,” Fred says firmly. “We’re almost to him.”

Archie takes a deep breath and nods. Veronica and Betty appear at his side, hands gripped tightly together, and Kevin crouches next to them, peering through the branches as his father approaches the house. From their hiding place in the trees, they can’t be more than fifteen feet from the front door, which Sheriff Keller reaches quickly, rapping his knuckles harshly on its window.

“Open up! Police!” He calls, waiting for a response. The resounding silence pierces through Archie, his fear for his best friend skyrocketing. Sheriff Keller carefully tests the door, and finding it unlocked, quickly rushes in, gun raised.

It feels like another lifetime of waiting after Sheriff Keller disappears into the silent house, and Archie can’t wait much longer. The prospect of finally finding Jughead overrides his common sense, and he is just about to burst out of the woods and follow Sheriff Keller when FP beats him to it.

“I’m done waiting around.” he declares, face set and determined, pushing away branches and emerging from their hiding place.

“FP, no!” Fred attempts to grab FP and prevent him from leaving, but he only grasps air as FP slips away and begins walking purposefully towards the house.

Archie, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin watch Fred warily as he seems to fight with himself, before swearing loudly and moving to follow FP. Archie immediately rises and follows the two adults, barely aware that the remaining three have also joined him. Just as FP is about to reach the front door, Sheriff Keller bursts through, speaking rapidly into his radio. “…need emergency medical right now, get an ambulance out here immediately and make sure Mercy is prepared. Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Where’s my son?! Is it Jughead?” FP demands, quickly covering the rest of the distance to the house.

“Get to the basement, first door around the corner. He needs immediate medical attention. I’m having trouble getting a good signal to radio this in. No Scorpions to be seen.” Keller says shortly, before returning to his radio to attempt to reach the station.

FP sprints into the house, Archie close on his heels. The house is a blur as they turn the corner and rush through the open door to the basement, nearly tumbling down the stairs in their haste to reach Jughead.

When he and FP reach the bottom of the stairs, Archie thinks he leaves his body. Time slows down, stretching itself out, allowing him to take in every horrible detail of the sight of his best friend, lying prone in the corner of the tiny, dark basement. Archie is frozen still while FP mutters a low “Oh, God,” and runs to his son. Archie cannot move his limbs even when Fred, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin finally reach the basement. He is vaguely aware of Veronica’s and Kevin’s gasps and the sound of Betty beginning to cry, but he can’t bring himself to react to anything going on around him, focusing only on Jughead.

Jughead is slumped low against the wall, unconscious, with his chin resting on his chest and his thick, black hair falling over his face. His arms are restrained above his head, tied to a pipe running low along the wall, and he looks more like a skeleton than a person.

 _Six days_ , Archie thinks to himself in horror. _Jughead has been down here for six fucking days._

Suddenly, time speeds up and rights itself again, pulling Archie right along with it, and he returns to himself.

“Jughead! Jughead, come on, wake up!” FP is kneeling next to his son, gently shaking his fragile body as he attempts to rouse him. Archie stumbles forward, collapsing on Jughead’s other side, where he finally gets a good look at his friend.

Archie has the ridiculous impulse to laugh – he used to think the bags under Jughead’s eyes and his insomniac tendencies were concerning, but they’re nothing compared to the deep bruises around his eyes and the sheer exhaustion emanating from the shell of his best friend. He remembers all the times he teased Jughead for being so skinny, but his once wiry frame seems massive in comparison to the skin and bones swimming in his tell-tale skinny jeans and flannel.

His face, currently cradled in FP’s hands, is bruised, sporting a split lip and a black eye in addition to various shades of green and yellow mottled on his cheekbones. Archie can’t see what other injuries may be hidden by Jughead’s baggy clothes, but he sees a concerning amount of blood soaking his front, just above his right hip. With shaking hands, he gently lifts Jughead’s tattered and dirty undershirt, and feels the last bit of hope leave his body, feels a sucker punch to his gut as he loses the ability to breathe.

“Oh God, he’s been shot.” He chokes out weakly, just as Jughead’s brow furrows and he begins to regain consciousness.

“Juggy…” Betty comes to kneel beside Archie, Veronica and Kevin following, with Fred coming behind FP, stripping his jacket off to press against the still-bleeding gunshot wound. “You with us?”

Jughead’s eyes slowly open, the familiar striking green unleashing a flood of relief through Archie.

“There we go, kiddo,” FP says softly, a smile breaking out on his face. Archie can feel some of the tension dissipate in the room, the sight of Jughead awake bringing a collective sigh of relief to their group.

Their relief is short-lived, however, as Jughead’s face immediately screws up in pain and his breath hitches.

“I know, I know,” FP consoles. “It’s gonna be okay, Jug, we’re gonna get you out of here.”

His words don’t seem to have any effect on Jughead, who shrinks in on himself as though trying to get away from them all, the movement visibly causing him even greater pain.

“Don’t move, Jug, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” Archie consoles, resting a hand on his friend’s chest to keep him from moving further. Again, Jughead doesn’t react to the consoling words and instead jerks away from Archie’s touch, wrists straining against his bonds.

“His hands,” Veronica says. “Does anyone have a pocketknife?”

“Why is he scared of us?” Betty asks tearfully, while everyone searches for a knife. Archie digs into his pockets, praying that this coat was the one he’d left his old pocketknife in from his Boy Scout-ing days. “It’s like he doesn’t understand what we’re saying!”

Archie’s fingers suddenly come into contact with Jughead’s beanie instead of the cool steel he’d been hoping. He slowly pulls it out, and then Betty’s words cause everything to click into place.

“His aids,” he says softly. “they took his aids.” And sure enough, as FP digs out a pocketknife and begins sawing at the ropes restraining Jughead, Archie takes a closer look at his friend’s ears, and the telltale tan nubs that Jughead so carefully hides with his beanie are nowhere in sight. “He can’t hear us. And he never speaks if he can’t hear himself, it’s this old habit he has.”

“Jughead is…deaf?” Veronica asks incredulously.

“Not deaf,” Kevin pipes up. “In his own words, he’s simply ‘extremely hard of hearing.’ Almost deaf.”

FP frees Jughead’s hands from the ropes, and gently lowers his arms to the ground.

“He’s got a fever, too,” he says, teeth grinding in fury. “His forehead was burning up. He’s probably delirious, doesn’t understand what’s going on.”

He’s right – Archie has never seen Jughead look so afraid, even when he accidentally pushed Archie too hard while they were wrestling in their treehouse as kids, causing Archie to tumble to the ground and break his wrist. The sight of Jughead then, filled with fear and anxiety as he scrambled down the ladder to the injured Archie is nothing compared to now, the absolute panic on Jughead’s face as he makes continued attempts to get away from them all, but in too much pain and too weak to do so.

“We have to calm him down, he’s just going to agitate that gunshot wound.” Fred says, nervously running a hand through his hair. Jughead’s breathing has turn to wheezing, and tears of pain and confusion well up in his eyes. “Where the hell is that goddamn ambulance?”

“We’re overwhelming him. Everyone back up, give him some space!” Betty declares, carefully moving a few feet away from Jughead. Everyone obeys her command, but Archie remains next to his best friend.

“Arch, what are you doing?” Veronica demands.

Archie ignores everyone for a moment and focuses fully on Jughead. He slowly picks up the beanie and gently reaches out with it. Jughead’s eyes are glazed over with fever as he stares warily at Archie, tears running down his bruised cheeks. He breathes heavily and flinches, eyes squeezing shut, as Archie gently covers his greasy hair with his most prized possession, but he doesn’t pull away. Archie keeps his hands out in front of him, smiles assuredly, and slowly, messily, and clumsily begins to sign to Jughead.

_It’s okay. You are safe now. No one is going to hurt you._

Jughead’s breathing slowly steadies, the combination of the familiar comfort of his beanie securely on his head and the signing seeming to calm him down.

Archie keeps repeating the sign for _safe_ until finally, Jughead’s breathing slows. He slowly moves his right arm towards Archie and forms a fist, the sign for the letter “A,” and gently knocks it against Archie’s shoulder.

Archie gasps, and can’t hold back the tears of relief that escape. “Yeah,” he stammers, momentarily forgetting that Jughead can’t hear him. “Archie, yeah. It’s Archie.”

When Jughead had first admitted to him that he was near deaf without hearing aids and explained that he communicated through ASL without the aids, they had decided on a sign name for Archie. Their own little thing, just the letter “A” and a playful punch to the shoulder. Archie remembers the day they came up with it like it was yesterday, and how he’d felt so happy and so honored to be Jughead’s friend and to share communication that only the two of them understood. That happiness could not even hold a candle to that which he experiences now, feeling the solid weight of Jughead’s fist against his shoulder, eyes a bit clearer and breathing steady, if not interrupted by a pained gasp every few breaths. He has Jughead back.

Jughead weakly smiles at Archie, the fist on his shoulder relaxing to grip the material of Archie’s thick coat. His eyes are slipping closed again, and Archie barely acknowledges Sheriff Keller returning to the basement with several paramedics, too preoccupied with the knowledge that they’d found Jughead, that his best friend is really and truly in front of him, and he grips tightly to Jughead’s hand, the one line of true hope he has left, for as long as he can before his father pulls him away, allowing the paramedics room to load Jughead on a gurney and move him out of the basement.

~~~

They wait for four hours in the emergency room before learning that Jughead is stable. Four hours of suffocating in a waiting room, staring at bloodstained hands and shocked faces. Archie downs countless cups of coffee and spends the hours falling into himself and the warped thoughts of how badly injured Jughead could be and the millions of questions about what happened and why. Why weren’t there any Scorpions there when they stormed in? Why had they shot Jughead, especially in his abdomen? Did they want to condemn him to a slow, painful death, alone in the dark basement trapped in complete silence? Archie doesn’t even want to think of what kind of sick tortures the Scorpions may have thought up once they discovered that Jughead relied on hearing aids.

Once the ER doctor informs them that Jughead is “stable but unconscious and still with a moderate fever,” they take turns going in to see him. When Archie crosses the threshold of Jughead’s hospital room, he wants to simultaneously run as far away as he can from this horrible truth and plant himself in the uncomfortable chair at Jughead’s bedside, not moving a muscle until Jughead wakes up.

He ends up compromising, standing at the side of Jughead’s bed and staring at his motionless friend until his time is up. Under the harsh lights of the hospital, Archie sees Jughead clearly for the first time. His skin is pale, decorated with bruises in various stages of healing and lacerations held together with butterfly bandages or stitches. The doctors say he’s lucky to be alive. He made it out of that basement with three broken ribs – one of which punctured a lung, a sprained ankle, an infected gunshot wound, internal bleeding, several broken fingers, and a plethora of bruises and lacerations, most prominently found on his wrists, and Archie can’t help but envision Jughead struggling unendingly against the tough, unforgiving rope that had restrained him for six entire days.

His time ends too soon, and eventually everyone has seen Jughead and reassured themselves that he is truly alive and on the road to recovery. Archie and Betty are steadfast in their desire to stay with Jughead until he wakes, but Fred insists on taking them home to get something to eat and get some rest. Eventually, with persuading from Veronica and Kevin, and with promises from FP that he will not leave Jughead’s side, they head back to their homes.

~~~

Archie wakes the next day to a phone call from FP that Jughead’s so-called “moderate” fever has escalated overnight to “severe,” his weakened body unable to completely fight off the infection. Visitors are strictly prohibited, as Jughead’s immune system is so compromised that any foreign bacteria could kill him. Betty cries when she hears the news, hugging Archie tightly the Andrews’s kitchen while Fred leaves to pick up FP from the hospital; for once in her life she is not the perfect, composed girl-next-door. Her hair hangs loose, greasy and knotted, with leftover makeup from the day before bleeding from her tears. Archie calls Veronica and Kevin to update them, and Veronica immediately comes over, while Kevin gives them the disappointing information that the police have no leads on tracking down the Scorpions.

Archie, Betty, and Veronica are determined to go to the hospital, as waiting for news in a closer proximity to Jughead seems a better alternative to waiting for news helplessly in Archie’s kitchen, but they are stopped when Fred and FP walk through the door, both looking crestfallen.

“He – he…” FP stammers, looking like he’d aged ten years overnight. “He’s terrified. He’s delusional, ya know? He doesn’t – he doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t even recognize me. And they haven’t found the right aids yet so he still can’t fucking hear anything…” He trails off, voice breaking.

“Why don’t you get some rest, FP?” Fred suggests. “Go ahead and sleep on the couch, we’ll wake you if we get any news from the hospital.”

FP stumbles off to the living room, looking lost and helpless.

“He’s gonna be okay, right?” Archie asks tentatively. “Dad? Jughead - Jughead is gonna be okay, isn’t he?”

Fred smiles sadly at his son.

“He’s a tough kid,” he answers. “He’ll pull through. Somehow.”

Jughead burns with fever and delirium for two more days, before the antibiotics or his own resilience finally kick in and the infection clears away, allowing his body to finally begin healing itself.

Archie finds himself sitting again at his friend’s bedside, thinking of how tired he was of seeing Jughead hurt. He was tired of constantly being reminded of how tough Jughead is by watching him go through hardship after hardship. Maybe his dad was right – trouble had a knack of finding the Jones family and ripping them apart. He watches the finally peaceful face of his sleeping friend, and wonders how in the hell they’re going to fix it this time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very overwhelmed by all the kind words - thank you so much. This is the first piece of my writing that I've had the guts to post anywhere, and your responses have been incredible. This was originally going to be a one shot, but I decided to continue. There will probably be one more shorter chapter after this one. Thank you all again and enjoy!

Jughead spends a little over two weeks in the hospital. The doctors keep him for observation; his body is so banged up he can’t be moved, and he is put on strict bedrest. Jughead spends almost the entirety of those two weeks sleeping. On the rare occasions that he is awake when Archie visits, he passively allows Archie to sign brokenly to him, making no attempt of his own to respond.

Archie tries not to let this bother him. He knows Jughead’s hands and broken fingers are in no shape to be signing back, and that Jughead essentially becomes nonverbal when he can’t hear, but some type of recognition would be nice. He’s tired of looking into his best friend’s eyes and seeing an absence, as if Jughead is still stuck in that basement in the woods.

The nurses on Jughead’s ward quickly take a liking to the deaf boy and his loyal circle of friends that visit almost every day. Even his primary care nurse, a non-nonsense older woman named Nina, gets so sick of finding Archie sneaking into Jughead’s room after visiting hours that she allows him special permission to stay late three times a week.

This turns out to be a curse cleverly disguised as a blessing. Archie’s anxious mind refuses to let him rest when he’s apart from Jughead, so spending three nights at the hospital brings him a temporary respite. The physical sight of Jughead lying in the hospital bed reassures him that the entire process of finding Jughead hadn’t been some cruel dream.

The curse part is revealed on his second night taking advantage of Nina’s kindness. 

Jughead falls asleep at every hour of the day, too exhausted to keep his eyes open for longer than a few hours at a time. On that particular night, he falls asleep around 8pm while watching old reruns of Scrubs (subtitles on) with Archie. Upon noticing that Jughead is dead to the world, Archie impulsively reaches for the remote to mute the TV before remembering that it wouldn’t make any difference for another few days, when Jughead’s new hearing aids are supposed to arrive.

Archie remains in the chair next to Jughead’s bed, his English readings open on his lap but attention given fully to the hijinks of J.D. and Turk, until movement from Jughead tears his gaze away.

Jughead’s face is pulled in a grimace, sweat beading on his forehead, and he is squirming uncomfortably underneath the thin hospital sheets.

“Juggie,” Archie mutters, moving his readings to the floor and leaning over the bed.

Jughead suddenly begins thrashing violently, panting and pushing his hands vainly against the twisted sheets.

“Jug!” Archie exclaims, reaching out to try and wake him up before he pulls out any of the seemingly countless wires disappearing under his hospital gown. “Jug, wake up, come on!”

Archie’s heart races as his attempts to wake Jughead seem to achieve the opposite effect, Jughead becoming more and more upset and beginning to talk in his sleep.

“No, no,” he pants, fighting against Archie’s gentle grip on his shoulders. “Don’t touch me…please…I don’t…I don’t know anything…”

Archie is helpless, his repetitions of Jughead’s name quite literally falling on deaf ears, and physical contact distressing Jughead even further. He is just reaching for the button to call Nina when Jughead begins screaming. The sound immediately causes Archie to freeze, and Jughead suddenly shoots straight up in bed, eyes snapping open, breath wild and uneven. His face immediately distorts, grimacing at the pain the sudden movement has brought to his injured ribs.

“Jug?” Archie questions after a moment, reaching out to place a hand on Jughead’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!”

Archie is so shocked at finally hearing Jughead’s address him, even if his voice is distorted with anger and fear, that his jaw drops, barely noticing that Jughead had violently flinched away from his outstretched hand.

He quickly recovers and lowers his hand, then sits back down in the chair, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible.

“I’m sorry,” Archie says softly, and then catches himself quickly and begins signing it.

“No!” Jughead yells, voice much louder than usual with no synthetic buds to inform him that he has blown right past ‘outside voice’ without even stopping for a break at ‘inside voice.’ “Don’t, Archie, just don’t. I want you to leave. I want to be left alone.”

Archie is aware that his face falls even further than his hands do, descending to his lap from signing sorry, but Jughead won’t even look at him. Instead, he pulls his beanie lower on his head and turns his face away, drawing his knees up to his chest.

“Go away, go away, go away,” he whispers over and over. Scrubs is still playing in the background, and the artificial canned laughter opposes the horrible tension that has descended between Archie and Jughead. Archie makes one last effort, gently placing his hand on Jughead’s knee. He has to get Jughead to lie back down so he doesn’t pop any stitches or further injure himself, but his efforts are fruitless.

“Don’t, Archie!” Jughead yells viciously when he feels Archie’s hand come to rest on his knee, not raising his head to look at him. “Go away! Don’t you get it? I want to be alone!  
”  
“Okay,” Archie whispers, holding back tears. He retracts his hand and carefully picks up his forgotten homework and TV remote. He turns off Scrubs, screen going black on Carla’s smiling face as she leans in to kiss Turk. Before he leaves the room, he takes a glance back at Jughead. He is now curled up in a tight ball underneath the covers and multitudes of twisted wires. Archie tries in vain to tell himself that the bundle isn’t trembling, reminding himself that Jughead doesn’t want him there, and turns to leave.

He runs into Nina in the hallway, literally, as his head is bowed, gaze focused on the floor until he smacks headlong into her substantial chest, scattering his English papers everywhere.

“Whoa!” She exclaims, bending down to help him retrieve them. “Where are you headed off to in such a rush, Archie? It’s a Tuesday, you know you can stay late.”

Archie is barely holding it together, and shakes his head numbly, hands shaking over the pages of Hamlet essay questions.

“I think he had a nightmare. He was screaming and talking in his sleep. He didn’t want to see me when he woke up.”

Nina pauses and scrutinizes him, eyes narrowing.

“Boy, that Jughead can be pretty damn stupid for how smart he really is.” She says, sighing and shaking her head. “I see people in here like that all the time. Damn fools, they don’t want anyone else to worry about them, so they pretend like they can handle it themselves. He’s probably scared and embarrassed and doesn’t want you to see him like that. It’s that cursed Southside pride,” she winks – it’s common knowledge that Nina is one of the only nurses from the Southside. “Don’t take it to heart. And don’t let him push you away. He needs you now more than ever, even if he refuses to acknowledge it.”

Nina gives him a smile and hands him the remainder of his notes before rising to her feet and heading down the hallway.

Archie glumly straightens out the pages, takes a deep breath, and trudges out of the hospital.

~~~

Despite the incident with the nightmare, Archie returns to visit every day and stays late for his allotted three days a week. Jughead greets him with a brief, embarrassed smile the day after his nightmare, and they fall into their old routine of Archie signing and Jughead looking vacant.

They don’t talk about it.

It’s decided that Jughead will stay with the Andrews once his time in the hospital comes to a close. FP throws a fit in the Andrews’ kitchen when Archie and Fred break the news to him, and nearly begins shattering dishes before Fred leads him out of the room. Archie hears his father’s low murmur and what might be poorly restrained sobs before FP returns to the kitchen, eyes red and puffy, for a cup of coffee before leaving, shoulders slumped.

Jughead is still too battered and weak to be able to handle stairs, and the garage is too cold to comfortably sleep in, so Fred and Archie turn the living room into a makeshift bedroom, rearranging the couches and bringing down an old twin-size mattress and bed frame from the attic.

Archie and Betty decide it would be best if only the two of them pick Jughead up from the hospital. His distaste for large groups of people and social interactions is well-known, and they don’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already is.

He comes home on a Sunday, brand new hearing aids in his ears, if not still concealed by the crown beanie. He has to use a wheelchair for another week until the sprained ankle fully heals, and then he can walk using the support of crutches until his ribs and gunshot wound no longer pain him. The doctor explains all of this before they leave, and Archie tries not to think about the scars Jughead’s thin shirt and flannel are hiding as he carefully hoists himself out of the wheelchair and into the backseat of Betty’s car, still wincing slightly in pain.

The ride home is normal, so normal that Archie forgets for a minute that the past few weeks happened. Jughead seems to be trying valiantly to come out of the stupor he’d been in at the hospital and prove that he is fine, chatting animatedly with Betty about the latest novel he’d read. Listening to Jughead’s theories about no no Betty you don’t understand, the main character IS a dream, he’s not even real, Archie realizes with a pang in his heart that if he hadn’t bailed on their road trip over the summer, these are the kinds of memories he would have more of.

They have dinner with FP, and Veronica and Kevin drop by after for a movie, weighed down with snacks and sodas. Fred and FP remain in the kitchen while Archie and the rest of the kids get Jughead settled in his bed, propped up with pillows and surrounded by potato chips and pretzels.

“Alright everyone,” Kevin announces, dropping himself onto the couch next to Veronica. “What are we watching? We should probably let our resident drive-in expert pick, but I’m throwing my cards in for High School Musical.”

Jughead groans.

“Kev,” he pleads. “You always want to watch that goddamn movie. I’m putting my foot down today. I’ve had enough of unrealistic high school drama.”

Betty chuckles. “Afraid I’m with Juggie on this one, Kevin. How about a different Disney movie, though? Classic Disney.”

“Ooh, yes!” Veronica exclaims. “As long as it’s not Up. I am not in the mood to have my heart ripped out of my chest tonight.”

“I have Inside Out?” Archie suggests. “I haven’t been able to watch it yet.”

“You still haven’t seen it?” Betty asks, shocked. “You’ve had the DVD for months!”

“Got a little busy with the whole Jason Blossom murder investigation, Bets.” Archie playfully nudges her and snags a Swedish Fish from the bowl on her lap. “Haven’t had much time to watch movies.”

“Inside Out it is!” Jughead proclaims. “Now which one of you strong, healthy individuals is going to get up and get it? Remember, your poor friend Jughead is an invalid for the next couple weeks. You must obey my every whim.”

Kevin rolls his eyes and tosses a chip at Jughead – which he catches in his mouth – before rising to his feet and getting the DVD.

Kevin pops open the DVD player and sets up Inside Out, then settles back into the couch, comfortable silence falling over the small group as the movie begins, and soon they are all enraptured by the inner workings of Riley’s mind.

~~~

Archie feels a gentle nudge on his shoulder, and groans in annoyance. He was so tired; couldn’t he just sleep for five more minutes?

“Arch,” someone whispers. “Wake up, c’mon.”

He groans and reluctantly opens his eyes. He is greeted with Betty’s warm green eyes as she rouses him.

“Betty? What’s up?” He yawns, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The living room is dark, television turned off and snacks cleared away.

“I’m just gonna head home, thought I’d let you know. Looks like you’ll have to re-watch Inside Out, I think you passed out around Bing Bong’s entrance. Veronica and Kevin headed home about ten minutes ago.”

Archie groans. “Sorry, Betty. Didn’t mean to fall asleep on all of you.”

Betty laughs quietly. “You weren’t the only one.”

She nods towards the bed. Archie has to muffle his laughter at the sight - Jughead is fast asleep, curled up on his side and tightly gripping a teddy bear that Veronica had given him with the phrase “Get well soon!” emblazoned on its chest. 

“I already snuck a picture and sent it to Veronica, don’t worry.” Betty grins. “You should head to bed, you both need your rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Archie smiles and rises to give Betty a hug before walking her to the door. He pauses on his way back to the living room, taking a good look at Jughead. He looks better, bags under his eyes slowly disappearing and some fullness coming back to his cheeks. Archie is suddenly filled with an overwhelming flood of hope and calmness. Jughead is back, and the worst is over. In a few more weeks, he’d be back on his feet and back to his usual self, and this whole nightmare would be a thing of the past.

He decides to go back to sleep on the couch, as the prospect of walking up the stairs to his bedroom seeming about as difficult as climbing Mount Everest, and the idea of leaving Jughead to potentially wake up alone in a dark living room is unfathomable. He is finally feeling all of the exhaustion and weariness he’d steadfastly refused to feel for the past few weeks, and he barely makes it to the couch before he falls asleep again.  
For once, he and Jughead both sleep peacefully through the night, dreams of happier times filling their heads instead of nightmares.

~~~

In hindsight, Archie recognizes that he is a fool. That he could think Jughead would just magically be okay after all he’d gone through is completely ludicrous, and proven to be so the very next night, when the nightmares return with a vengeance, and last indefinitely.  
Archie gets into the habit of sleeping on the couch, and the two of them get into a rather unpleasant routine. 

Jughead usually falls asleep first. Even if his mobility is confined to a wheelchair and a bed his muscles are overtaxed and easily exhausted by the effort of transitioning between the two. Archie stays awake for as long as he can, as he quickly comes to find that waking up to the sounds of his best friend screaming in terror is the absolute worst way to wake up.

On nights when Archie manages to stay awake until the nightmares grip Jughead, he passes the time writing song lyrics or gently strumming his guitar, hoping that the soothing chords will subconsciously calm whatever memories arise while Jughead sleeps. He usually isn’t so lucky.

On nights when Archie’s eyelids close of their own accord and only snap open at the sound of screaming, he is constantly reminded of what Nina said to him. It’s clear that Jughead is burying everything that happened to him.

He jokes around with Betty and Archie and types away on his laptop, but Archie sees things when Jughead thinks no one is looking. His eyes go vacant as he stares off at something the rest of them can’t see, his fingers pause in their rapid typing and instead shake slightly, and every now and then he doesn’t respond to callings of his name, as if he’s forgotten that he has hearing aids again.

It all comes to a head one night, when Archie is woken up (again) from accidentally falling asleep by Jughead screaming. Archie blearily turns on a lamp and navigates his way to Jughead’s bed to rouse him.

“Juggie, Juggie,” he says, shaking his shoulders. “It’s just a nightmare, c’mon man, wake up.”

Jughead eventually wakes up, hands immediately flying up to grip Archie’s wrists and pry his hands off his shoulders. He breathes heavily and moves as far away from Archie as possible, curling into himself as he struggles away.

Archie is silent, watching sadly as his best friend tries vainly to calm down, refusing to make eye contact.

“Jughead…” he says carefully.

“Don’t.”

Archie sighs and sits on the bed.

“Jug, you have to talk about it.” He says firmly. “I know you’re not okay. You can act like everything is normal and fine and that you aren’t bothered by all of this, but you’re having nightmares every night.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Jughead states with the same amount of conviction that Archie is using to try and persuade him otherwise.

Archie persists.

“I know that I’ll never understand what you went through - hell, what you’re still going through. But you’re my best friend. I know I’ve been kind of shitty for the past year, but I promise I’m here now. You can’t just keep pushing me away, pushing all this shit down. It’s going to explode.”

Jughead snorts. “Look, Archie. I get you’re trying to help. But you said it yourself: you don’t understand. And I can’t talk about it. I don’t work like that, that isn’t how I deal with things. I can’t.”

Archie sighs.

“Okay. I really wish you would talk about it. It doesn’t have to be me, it can be my dad, your dad, Betty, I don’t care. I just don’t like the thought of you dealing with all of this by yourself. It’s eating you alive, Jughead.”

In response, Jughead rolls over so his back is to Archie and pulls the blanket tightly around himself.

“I’m fine, Arch.”

~~~

Archie lasts four more nights before he decides enough is enough. Instead of Jughead’s philosophy of boxing everything up helping him move on, his mental health is rapidly declining. Though healthy enough to now move around on crutches, he rarely leaves the bed, where he spends most of his time sleeping. He only eats if forcibly reminded to, and has clearly forgone all attempts to act like everything is normal, no longer cracking jokes or making sarcastic comments.

The nightmares get worse. Neither of them are sleeping much, and Archie is cranky from the soreness that sleeping on the couch brings, which he blames for finally losing his temper after they are woken up by nightmares for the second time in one night.

Before either of them know it, they are screaming at each other in fury. 

“I don’t get it, Jughead! I don’t get why you consistently shut me out, as if just waiting around is going to make everything all sunshine and roses again!”

“I’m not shutting you out! Why can’t you just understand that I don’t need to talk about anything?!”

“You’re deluding yourself, Jughead. You’re just making this harder for everyone involved, and you’re hurting yourself!”

“Well Jesus, sorry I’m not dealing with my fucking problems in the way you expect! Fuck, how long have you even known me Arch? You should know that this is how things get handled with me.”

“I don’t care!” Archie’s patience has long since evaporated. “I don’t fucking care how you handle things, this is not some minor issue that you can sweep under the rug! You cannot possibly tell me that you are handling anything when you don’t sleep, you don’t eat, and this conversation is the most words you’ve said to me in the past few days!”

Jughead’s eyes flash and he is about to respond before he is interrupted by Fred appearing in the doorway, looking exhausted.

“What’s going on down here?”

Jughead visibly deflates and avoids both Fred’s and Archie’s gazes.

“Nothing, Mr. Andrews,” he mutters. “Sorry for waking you up.”

Fred scrutinizes the boys, taking in Archie’s mussed hair from pulling on it in frustration and the receding flush from Jughead’s cheeks.

“Archie, can you give me and Jug a minute?”

Archie looks at his father incredulously, before shaking his head as he angrily stalks out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Fred sighs and crosses his arms. Jughead stares down at his hands, playing nervously with the fringe on his blanket.

“Look, Jug,” he says. “I know you two aren’t seeing eye to eye on this. And I’m not gonna tell you what to do, I know you can make your own decisions. But you should know that Archie views you as a brother. And I’ve always, always, considered you another son. You’ve been a part of this family for about as long as you’ve been alive. You can trust us with anything.”

Jughead keeps his eyes downcast, tears blurring his vision.

“Archie means well. As much as he may be annoying you, he cares about you and just wants what’s best for you. And so do I. You should want that too, Jug. Don’t go blaming yourself for things that are outside of your control.”

Fred is silent for a moment, as if he’s debating telling him something.

“I think you should talk to your father. But right now you should try and get some rest. Just remember we’ll be here for you no matter what.”

Fred leaves quietly and Jughead furiously swipes at his eyes. He hears Archie and Fred murmuring quietly in the kitchen and angrily rips out his hearing aids.

Archie doesn’t return to the living room, but instead retreats to his room for the first time since bringing Jughead home, deciding that they both need space to think things over.

Neither of them sleep that night.

The next day, Jughead is gone. Archie nearly has a heart attack when he comes downstairs and sees his bed empty, crutches missing, and Jughead nowhere in sight until his father tells him that Jughead had been asked to be dropped off at Sunnyside to see FP.

Archie worries for the majority of the day, trying to distract himself by practicing guitar, until his phone rings, Jughead’s name flashing across the screen.

“Jug?” He answers, nervous.

“Hey, Arch.” Jughead sounds tired and anxious. “Um…do you think you could meet me at the old treehouse? I think I need to talk.”

Archie lets out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He agrees, already pulling on his shoes. “I’ll be there in ten.”

Jughead hums his affirmation before ending the call, and Archie nearly sprints out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for coming along on this ride with me! Sorry this chapter is a little short and took a bit longer to get up - my summer took a slight turn for the worse and I haven't had much time or motivation to write.

Archie trudges through the woods, snow sneaking its way into his boots. His thin socks do little in protecting his skin from the cold that seeps in.

He can’t remember the last time he visited the treehouse, much less with Jughead. Fred had helped them build it when they were 10, wide-eyed and eager to finally be allowed to construct something and use Fred’s tools. They were young then, content with spending their summer days in the treehouse, reading comics, eating junk food, talking for hours, or simply enjoying the silence of each other’s company.

As Archie approaches the old wooden structure, he suddenly feels very old. A heaviness has settled into his bones somewhere during the events of the past year. He’s no longer the little boy without a care in the world, and Jughead is even less so. Archie is well aware that he and Jughead have always led very different lives, had very different thresholds for all types of pain. As Archie finally reaches the clearing that is home to their treehouse, he wonders if Jughead has finally hit his threshold.

He has a minor heart attack (Jughead really needs to stop contributing to his stress levels) when he finds Jughead’s crutches leaning against the tree trunk, but no Jughead.

“Jug?” He calls, concern lacing his voice at the sight of the empty clearing.

“Here, Arch.”

The call comes from above, and a moment later Archie sees Jughead’s beanie appear in the doorway to the treehouse.

“Jughead, what the hell?” He says, exasperated. “You shouldn’t be climbing anything, your ankle still isn’t healed!”

Jughead waves him off, muttering something about overbearing friends, and hobbles away from the doorway to allow Archie room to climb up and enter. Archie shakes his head and carefully ascends the wooden boards Fred had nailed into the trunk all those years ago. He pulls himself up over the lip and into the treehouse, where he finally gets a good look at the interior.

It’s…in incredibly good condition, to his surprise. When he and Jughead were regularly using it as a hangout spot, they had been sure to keep it clean and in good repair, but Archie hadn’t been inside for a few years and had been certain that it would be falling apart.

Jughead notices his surprised expression as he takes in the neat arrangement and upkept wooden panels.

“I’ve been taking care of it,” he says, avoiding Archie’s gaze. “I slept here a bit…after the drive-in shut down. Then it got too cold so I moved to the school.”

Archie feels a punch to his gut. It seems he is constantly finding new reasons to hate himself as more details come up about Jughead’s homeless situation, and he’s certain he deserves a “Worst Friend of the Year” award.

“Jug, I’m so-“

He’s cut off before he can finish the apology by a bark of laughter.

“Don’t apologize.” Jughead says. “It’s not your fault, no matter how much you think it is. It was my decision to leave home. I did what I had to do to make it work. I’m my own responsibility, Arch.”

With that, Jughead shuffles his way over to the wide doorway and carefully lowers himself to the floor, trying and failing to hide his pained wincing, and allows his legs to dangle over the edge.

Archie silently slides down next to him. They’re older now, bigger, so the seating arrangement is a bit more cramped than it once was. They sit in silence for a moment, looking out at the snow that begins to gently fall from the sky, and Archie is sure that Jughead is thinking of the same things he is, of all the times they’d sat in this very spot and talked for hours and hours as the sun sank below the horizon.

So much has changed from the last time they sat here together to now.

For all his faults as a friend, Archie likes to think that he knows when he needs to push Jughead and when he needs to let him take his own time. This situation is the latter, so he simply sits next to Jughead in comfortable silence, waiting to listen whenever he is ready to talk.

Eventually, Jughead sighs deeply and reaches up to fiddle with his hearing aids. He doesn’t meet Archie’s gaze.

“I know I’ve been kind of…” he pauses, looking for the right words. “distant lately. I’m sorry that I pushed you away when you were trying to help.”

Jughead squares his shoulders and rests his hands in his lap.

“I went to see my dad this morning. Your dad was actually the one who suggested it. He knew something that you and I didn’t, guess FP told him when he was drunk or something.”

Jughead lapses into silence again, and Archie restrains himself from prodding him, instead focusing on the snowflakes that come to rest on his boots before slowly melting away to nothingness.

“It wasn’t the Scorpions who took me.”

Archie’s gaze snaps up to Jughead.

“What?” He can’t stop himself from interrupting, despite his determination not to.

Jughead visibly steels himself as he prepares to speak again, squeezing his eyes shut and nervously playing with the zipper on his coat.

“The Scorpions didn’t take me.” He repeats. Then, “They were Serpents.”

Archie is rendered speechless. Of everything that he had been expecting Jughead to say, the fact that his own father’s gang – his own family - had kidnapped and tortured him for six days hadn’t even been an option.

Jughead continues to fill the silence, words pouring out of his mouth faster and faster.

“Apparently this – this whole gang war wasn’t even a war, a couple Scorpions and Serpents just got into a few fights here and there. But some of the Serpents were pissed off that no one else was willing to seriously go after the Scorpions – like, no one really wants a fucking gang war, you know? These Serpents needed a reason to make the whole gang go after the Scorpions for real, so they figured, hey let’s kidnap FP’s kid and make it look like it was the Scorpions. I mean,” Jughead breaks off in a humorless laugh, his voice becoming more and more hysterical. “what a great plan, right? Rough him up a little bit, plant the idea that the Scorpions did it, and boom, your gang leader with the infamously short temper goes on one hell of a rampage.”

Archie closes his mouth, suddenly aware that it had fallen open during Jughead’s tirade. A tense silence falls between them. The snow stops falling before either of them speak again, and a soft blanket of white covers the grass below.

“How did your dad find out?”

Jughead shrugs, leaning his head against the wood. “Didn’t say much. My guess is that one of them started feeling guilty once you guys found me and owned up to it. They all wore masks but there was one…he was more reluctant than the others.”

“What happened to the others?” Archie asks quietly.

Jughead looks somber. “Dad said they skipped town once they were ratted out.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Do you?”

Archie smiles humorlessly. He waits for a moment, gathering his thoughts, choosing his next words carefully. Jughead hates being pitied, but Archie needs to make sure he understands how sorry he is that something like this had happened to him. How it was so inherently wrong for the people he trusts to turn on him and do something so terrible for their own gain. He opens his mouth to speak again, but Jughead beats him to it.

“I’m just…I’m so tired, Arch.” All his sardonic humor is gone, evaporated with the pain of having to grow up too quickly. His voice is calm, but vulnerable. Archie has never heard him sound like this, even when FP confessed to Jason Blossom’s murder. “This town is poison. The Serpents preach loyalty and trust in one another, and look at what happened. There’s something wrong with Riverdale, with what it does to people. It got to the Blossom, the Coopers, to you. It chewed up my dad and spat him back out again, and now it’s moved on to me. It feels like I’m being eaten alive and I can’t stop it.”  
Archie doesn’t know what to say. In truth, there is nothing he can say to make this right, because Jughead isn’t wrong.

“It feels that way.” Archie starts. “Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning, like I’m suffocating from all the secrets and lies in this town. But it’s our home, Jug. Even if it is poison, we’ll get away from here one day. We’ll all find better places to call home, but I’m never going to forget living here. Because living here, doing what we did - it’s made us who we are. The time we spent solving Jason Blossom’s murder is just as important as the time we spent drinking milkshakes at Pop’s, or building this treehouse, or celebrating birthdays, or raiding my dad’s liquor cabinet. There’s still good in all the bad, and that’s what we have to live for.”

Jughead nods slightly.

“I know you’re right. I just…I want to get out of here.”

Archie is struck with a sudden idea.

“You know…we never did get to go on our road trip.”

Jughead snorts. “Yeah, whose fault is that?”

Archie chuckles. “Alright, alright, how many times do I have to apologize? Seriously, though. It’s winter break now…we could borrow my dad’s truck and do it.”

Jughead turns to face Archie, arms crossing against his chest.

“Alright, Andrews,” he smirks. “But I’m keeping you honest – you’re not even allowed to look twice at any older women. Now help your gimp friend down, I didn’t think about how high up this treehouse actually is.”

Archie laughs and proceeds to climb down the ladder, spotting Jughead as he slowly descends after him. He hands Jughead his crutches once they reach the snow-covered ground, and they begin making their way back to the Andrews’ home, and towards Fred’s truck, the promise of an escape to an open road with one last line of hope for the future of their lives and of Riverdale.


End file.
